Crazypants. Two updates in one day. But I found this while trolling through my "maybe" scrivener folder while looking for the chapter about the letter Astoria wrote for Hermione. It's a "pre-request" moment, and I have no idea what made me write it way back when, but I did, and I thought you readers might enjoy it.

"Granger? Granger?"

Hermione looked up from her desk, and saw Draco Malfoy, bundled up and ready to leave. Glancing at the clock on her desk, she saw it was half past six. She swore it was barely past noon just minutes ago. "Leaving?"

Draco nodded. "You should consider doing the same."

"I will eventually."

"You've worked late every night this week."

"Keeping track?" Hermione asked.

"It's hard not to notice," he retorted. "Don't you have a new flat to decorate? Don't women get excited about that sort of thing?"

Hermione frowned. "I just drew up papers to end my marriage today, Draco. Pardon me if going home to an empty flat while my husband and his knocked up girlfriend shack up in my house doesn't sound all that appealing."

Scratching the back of his neck, Draco watched as Hermione went back to her work. It was hard not to feel sorry for her. She didn't deserve what Ron Weasley did to her. He and Hermione had become more than amicable acquaintances over the past decade between working together and spending time with the Potters because of his and Harry's children. He saw Ron today in the mess hall grabbing lunch and it took everything he had not to give him a punch to the eye Harry didn't cold clock last week.

"Come on," he encouraged. "Let's go."

"Draco…" Hermione said with a heavy sigh. "As much as I appreciate whatever this is, I'd rather just work."

"Come on," he repeated. "My girls are having a slumber party at the Potter's house tonight with his boys and all of those Weasel cousins, my wife is on some weekend holiday with Pansy and Daphne, and you look like you could use a drink."

Hermione dropped her quill in the inkwell in defeat and leaned back in her office chair. "Draco…I just…I'd be shit company. Honestly."

"Come on," Draco said one more time. "We can go grab some dinner, and if you want, I'll help you unpack your flat. Anya has been asking me daily if she can come see the place. I told her it had a balcony, which she is quite excited to see."

She smiled. Anya had just turned ten, and was the most mature ten-year-old Hermione had ever met. Very serious, much focused, but had a playful side with those she knew best. "I haven't seen the girls in a week or two. How are they?"

"They miss you," Draco replied. "Claire loves those finger paints your mother found for her - as does one of the elves - Harby."

"Maybe it would do me some good to have a little fun in my flat," Hermione resigned. "Do you really want to spend your rare childless evening with me?"

Draco shrugged. "It's not like I have plans, and you look like you could use a friend."

"I'm not a charity case."

"I didn't say you were. You do a lot for me. You help my daughters…I was just…trying to return the favor."

Hermione sighed. "You already helped me move out."

"Yeah…but that was somewhat enjoyable for me. I thought at one point Weasel's head was going to literally explode," Draco replied with a smirk. "Now come on. Potter thinks you aren't eating and if you let me feed you tonight, it might stop him from force feeding you tomorrow."

"Fine," Hermione replied. She stood up and grabbed her large tote, throwing the straps over her shoulder and reached for her jacket. "Can we go into Muggle London for dinner at least? I can't stand being stared at."

"Me neither," Draco drawled. "What's near your place?"

"No idea," Hermione replied.

"What in the hell is in that bag of yours?"

Hermione shrugged. "Work I can do from home."

Draco shook his head. He pulled the bag from her shoulder and slid it back by her desk. "No. You aren't working. You don't get to hide. You are better than this, and better than that piece of shit that you married. Come on."

She tried to protest, but Hermione knew it was pointless. So she resigned herself and allowed Draco to lead her out of the office and towards the Muggle Ministry exit. Once outside, Hermione took in a deep breath of the cool spring air, and Draco pull her jacket from her arm and draped it around her shoulders. Quietly, the two of them walked the several blocks towards Hermione's new flat. None of the restaurants seemed all that appealing to Hermione as they passed them, but as they made their way towards the Millennium Bridge, she figured she'd at least past two or three more spots before they go to the flat.

The sun was beginning to set, causing loads of tourists to stop and take pictures as they admired the view. Hermione paused to look at it momentarily, before moving to face the east side of the river. She leaned against the railing, looking down at the flowing river beneath her.

"Don't jump," he teased. "It isn't worth it."

"Believe me, I know," Hermione replied with a halfhearted laugh. She looked down at her left hand, her engagement and wedding ring still on her left hand. "I can't believe I'm getting a divorce."

"Neither can The Daily Prophet."

"That rubbish paper can sod off."

Draco nodded, standing next to her, nudging her reassuringly. "It'll get better, Granger. He didn't deserve you."

"I wish I could say that made it hurt less, but it doesn't," Hermione replied, her voice wavering. "I mean, why her? Why her and not me? Why does he get to have a baby with her, but not me? I wanted a baby, Draco."

"I know you did," Draco quietly replied.

"Then why?" Hermione asked in a whisper. "Why her? Why not me?"

Draco wasn't sure what to say. He wasn't sure how much of the truth she really wanted to hear.

"I just don't understand," Hermione added.

"You work, Hermione," Draco said after a few quiet moments. "You work, she doesn't. I'm not saying you can't have children and work, but she doesn't. That daft bint is perfectly fine staying at home, letting her brain rot while she does nothing but clean his dishes, wash his laundry, and raise his kids. You would never do that."

Hermione tugged slightly at her wedding bands. "So what you're saying is that I'm being punished for wanting both a family and a career? That I only get to have one?"

"Merlin no," Draco scoffed. "I'm just telling you, what I believe to be the only reason why that idiot would leave you. You can have both, Granger. I'm sure it isn't easy, but if anyone could have both, it would be you."

She sniffled, and tugged at her rings again. From the moment she and Ron were engaged, and then married, the rings had never left her finger. "I've wasted eleven years on him. Eleven years, Draco. An entire decade and then some and where did it get me?"

"You can't look at it like that," Draco replied. "Even if you want to, you just can't."

"Why?"

"Because you'll make yourself crazy," he stated with a sigh. "Come on. Let's get you some dinner."

Hermione shook her head as she tugged a little harder on her rings. Once she got them over her first knuckle, they slid off as if they were never meant to be worn in the first place. She pinched the bands between her thumb and forefinger, and stared at them hard. "Everything was a lie."

"I don't think everything was a lie, Granger."

"It was though. We took vows. We made promises. He made promises. And he broke them."

"He did," Draco agreed. "You're right. But I don't think it was a lie in the beginning. A blind man could see how much he loved you."

"Loved. Past tense."

"He's a fool, Granger. He doesn't see past the end of his big nose and his rash decision making has lost him the only good thing he's ever had."

She shook her head. "He must think Lavender is a good thing. He's been sleeping with her for a year."

"Years," Draco corrected. "I overheard him and Potter. He told you a year, but it's been a few years, Granger."

Hermione wanted to be shocked, but she wasn't. Had she not already been numb to it all, she might have lost her mind right there. "I have no idea how to start over."

"Well, I know two little girls that would be happy to help occupy your time," Draco joked. "And…maybe a third."

"A third! Astoria's pregnant again!"

Draco nodded. "She thinks it'll be a boy, and that it'll fix everything. I think I'll wind up with another daughter and a wife that will go around the bend. I love my girls though. If I get another daughter, it's just one more to love."

"Do the girls know?"

"Not yet. Astoria likes to wait several months before letting people know."

She looked over at him. "So why tell me?"

He shrugged. "I needed to tell someone. You're the someone I tell things to. Harry gossips like a girl, and his wife isn't much better."

She chuckled. "I would have to agree." Hermione went back to staring at her rings, rolling the bands back and forth between her pinched fingers for a few quiet moments. "I can do this."

"Do what."

"I can let go."

"I think it's the only thing you can do," Draco replied. "Why hold onto something you can't change? I know he was a part of your life, but he doesn't define your life."

Nodding, Hermione took one last look at these gold bands, once filled with promises but now seeming empty and light, and let them go, watching as they barely made a ripple into the flowing river below. A single tear fell down her cheek, but she quickly swiped it away with a sweep of her thumb. She looked over at Draco, who gave her a sad sort of smile and offered her his arm. She took it, holding her hand in the crook of his elbow, and allowed him to lead her across the remainder of the bridge.

"I think there's a delicious Mexican restaurant up ahead," Hermione said several minutes later. "At least it smelled delicious when I walked past the other day.

"I can do Mexican."

"Great. I almost feel hungry."

Draco chuckled. "Good. Because I plan on feeding you until you have to be wheeled out of the place."

"You're barking if you think I'm going to eat that much. Come along - it's this way."

He felt his phone buzz in his pocket, and dug it out with his free hand. He had a text message from Harry. Did you get her out of the office?

He quickly typed back yes, and paused for a second before typing, thanks for watching the girls tonight.

No problem, Harry text back. If she won't let me help her, I'm glad she's letting you. Take care of her tonight. We'll drop the girls off in the morning.

"Who are you talking to?" Hermione asked.

"Harry," Draco nonchalantly replied. "Says Claire is trying to make the boys play dress-up."

Hermione laughed as she pointed to the restaurant up ahead. "Sounds like they're having fun."

"I'm sure they are," Draco replied, pocketing his cell and opening the door of the restaurant. She was right - it did smell delicious. "Come on, Granger. I'm starving."